I must be crazy. Yep, that’s it, I am 100% certifiable. Why else would I risk my new career by revisiting my past? Someone should have stopped me and locked me up. I know this world; I left it a long time ago. I never let go of it though, not completely. My only defense rests on the fact that when something speaks to your soul and encompasses it completely, you have unfinished business. Which is how I find myself at the Narita International Airport, bone tired, jet lagged, and slightly deaf.

I have to admit the concert was everything I hoped and dreamed of. Let’s just say that for research’s sake, I spent a little extra and got the VIP all access tickets. I could have gotten autographs, pictures, the whole experience with the group; however, I sat back and people watched. Fangirling, wow, up close and personal is more than slightly scary. If the concert hadn’t already made me deaf, being in a small, enclosed room with not only teenage girls but women my age; all screaming, giggling, red faced, and crying, definitely completed the transition. The peace and quiet of my upcoming red eye flight was something I was going to embrace with every ounce of strength I have left. Two hours isn’t enough time to nap but enough that I am hoping to ignore the world and get my screaming headache under control.

I know it isn’t smart to be in a crowded place and not paying attention. As I sit waiting for the flight to be called; earphones in, I simply try to rely on the fact that I can’t not look if something passes by my line of sight.

I heard it before I saw them. Still slightly dazed, I glance up at the sudden throng that is invading not only the waiting area but my personal space. Phones out and recording, screaming, pushing, and those I felt sorry for in the middle trying to make their way to the agent for check in. After my toes are stepped on once, I draw my legs up and wrap my arms around them; I try to make myself smaller in this overwhelming crowd. Someone jostles me from the left, another runs into me on the right, what little sliver of patience I have left evaporates. The next person to run into me like I’m invisible is in for a surprise. In a land of courteous culture, these people are being abnormally rude. Sleep deprived and jet lagged is not a combination you want to get to know me in.

The guy with the dust mask apologized as he was pushed into me while trying to escape someone that just wouldn’t leave him alone. I saw her coming, looking only at the screen on her phone as she is filming and I stand up. I wince at the impact she makes with my body but as I am taller than most Asians, my grumpy face looks down at her. I let the witch I was feeling fly free.

“Excuse you,” my icy tone and raised eyebrow glare down at her. Taken aback she steps backwards into another crazed fan that isn’t paying attention either. She quickly looks at me, then around me at her lost prey, gives a very unladylike grunt and turns to push her way back through the crowd.

My reprieve over, I stay standing to enforce my personal space that has been trampled on. The look on my face alone should scare off many. Honestly, besides the ice glare that I have perfected over my lifetime, my eyes are bloodshot, my face pale, and I didn’t know if I have any make up left on or not. I don’t really care. I probably look like a raccoon; good, that will help keep them away. Had I looked over my shoulder at the guy I rescued, I would have found thankful eyes that were just as tired as mine. However, unlike these crazed lunatics, I believe in personal space for everyone, famous or not. It doesn’t even cross my mind that I will probably show up in someone’s video.

The door opens and first class is admitted to the plane. With all the ruckus at the gate, I quickly grab my belongings and head to peace and quiet.

*-*HPOV *-*

How? How did they find out that we were leaving tonight and not staying in a different hotel? Some days it’s harder to always be the polite idol when all you want to do is walk somewhere unimpeded. As we approached the gate I felt sorry for those already sitting and waiting for the flight. This isn’t his first rodeo and he could almost count down the seconds until they were about to be disturbed and probably jostled. Out of the corner of his eye he sees one of the women draw her legs up to her chest. Out of defense or trying to be unnoticed? He isn’t sure but he feels sorry for her. He is even sorrier that he is going to bring the crowd right down on her as he passes. It is the only path he can clearly see. He notices her being jostled and hears no words of apology. Shaking his head at the fans and netizens that do away with culture and customs, to get a story.

It feels like someone pushes me from behind and I run full into the lady trying to avoid being hit by the crowd. Closer up she looks American and ill; however, she is probably just as exhausted as the rest of them. “I’m sorry,” comes from his mouth and brown eyes look up in shock at his words. She looks over his shoulder and no joke, her face transformed in front of him. Whoa, scary, I wouldn’t want this woman mad at me! He gets around the chairs to the other members of his group and turns back to look. Just then she stands up and very loudly exclaims, “Excuse you” to the woman who was following him. The lady’s reaction pulls a tired smile from the lips behind his mask. Yeah, I wouldn’t want her mad at me.